Tamara nearly spat out her coffee. Sputtering and dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, she stared at Isabelle. “Who told you that?”
“He did.”
“He told you?” Tamara was stunned. “Why?”
Isabelle chuckled wryly. “Yesterday I was teasing him about the hospital needing to take out an insurance policy on the two of you, because one of these days, you’re likely to start throwing chairs at each other during one of your famous arguments.”
“Like the one we overheard when you were on the elevator last week,” Jaclyn added.
Tamara’s face heated at the memory of how that particular argument had ended.
“Anyway,” Isabelle continued, “I told Victor that you two seemed to be bickering more frequently lately, and he admitted that he didn’t want to be at war with you anymore. That’s when he told me that he’d asked you out on a date, but you shot him down.”
Tamara shook her head, torn between incredulity and annoyance. “I can’t believe he told you about that.”
Isabelle looked baffled. “Why?”
“What do you mean? Because you two used to date.”
“We did?”
“Of course. Everyone knows that.” Tamara looked askance at Jaclyn. “Didn’t they?”
Jaclyn shook her head, hazel eyes twinkling. “They never dated.”
“What?” Tamara’s surprised gaze swung back to Isabelle. “But I thought—”
“You thought wrong, girlfriend.” Isabelle grinned. “Victor and I are just friends, and that’s all we’ve ever been.”
Tamara frowned. “But I distinctly remember a night, months ago, when you left the hospital together because you had a date.”
“It wasn’t a date. I treated him to dinner because he’d helped me move into Jaclyn’s condo. It was purely platonic.”
Once again, Tamara looked to their fellow intern for confirmation.
Jaclyn smiled. “It’s true.”
“Wow,” Tamara said, meeting Isabelle’s amused gaze. “And all this time I thought the two of you had a thing.”
“Nope. Now don’t get me wrong,” Isabelle added. “I think Victor is sexy as hell, and any woman would be lucky to have him—”
Tamara snorted. “I think most members of the nursing staff have had him.”
Isabelle and Jaclyn exchanged quick glances. “Wrong again.”
“Come on,” Tamara scoffed. “Do you guys really expect me to believe that Victor hasn’t gotten around? I’ve heard the rumors, and I’ve seen the way some of these nurses look at him, like he’s a juicy piece of meat they’ve already sampled and want more of.”
Isabelle and Jaclyn laughed.
“They might wish they’ve sampled him—” Jaclyn said.
“—but none of them have,” Isabelle finished.
Tamara eyed the two women skeptically. “What are you saying? That Victor doesn’t have a harem of naughty nurses?”
“Only in their dreams,” Isabelle said with a snort. “They think Victor’s a hottie, which is why they nicknamed him ‘Dr. Caliente.’ And most of them would jump at the chance to sleep with him, especially the ones who’ve actually come out and propositioned him.”
“Girl, you can’t imagine how bold and scandalous some of these chicks are,” Jaclyn added.
“Oh, I can imagine,” Tamara muttered, remember ing Victor’s discomfiture when they’d encountered the two young nurses in the hallway on Saturday.
Isabelle continued, “He’s been cornered in X-ray rooms and supply closets. And he’s found everything from phone numbers to edible condoms in the pockets of his lab coat. The rumors you’ve heard were probably started by some of the very same women who’ve been trying to seduce him. But Victor has never slept with any of them.”
Tamara frowned. “How do you and Jaclyn know all this?”
Isabelle chuckled. “Ravi gave us the lowdown. He and Victor are really good friends, so sometimes after work they go out for beers and swap stories about the stalker du jour. Don’t forget that most of these women throw themselves at Ravi, too, even though he’s engaged.” She shook her head. “If the situation were reversed, these same females would consider themselves the victims of sexual harassment. But the fellas get a pretty good laugh over everything.”
Tamara sipped her lukewarm coffee, pondering the implications of what she’d just learned. Was it possible that she’d misjudged Victor? Was it possible that he wasn’t a charming womanizer looking to add her to his stable of conquests?
Watching her face, Isabelle grinned knowingly. “You have the look of someone who’s experiencing a major paradigm shift.”
“Hmm,” Tamara murmured noncommittally.
“Now, obviously, I can’t speak for what Victor does outside the hospital. But I can tell you that when he’s here, his mind is on work. That is, as long as you’re not around,” Isabelle added slyly. “When you’re around, there’s no telling where his mind goes.”
“I know that’s right,” Jaclyn concurred, grinning at Tamara. “It’s pretty obvious that you and Victor drive each other to distraction.”
“But we still get our work done,” Tamara said almost defensively. “We’ve never allowed our personal, er, issues to interfere with our treatment of patients.”
“No one’s saying you have,” Jaclyn assured her. “In fact, you both work so well together that everyone has noticed.”
“Which is why you should go out with him,” Isabelle suggested. “Beneath the cocky exterior, Victor’s a really sweet guy. I mean, he talks to his mother on the phone every day. Once when she was sick, I overheard him singing a Colombian lullaby to her.”
“Aww,” Jaclyn sighed, laying a hand over her heart. “That is so sweet.”
Tamara had to agree. Being a mama’s girl herself, she’d always been a sucker for a man with a soft spot for his mother.
“So give him a chance, Tamara,” Isabelle urged. “At least let him take you out to dinner.”
Tamara shrugged. “I might consider it,” she said, feigning nonchalance. “But I don’t think he’ll ask me out again.”
Isabelle smiled. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. If he likes you as much as we suspect he does, you haven’t heard the last of him.”
Suddenly that didn’t sound like such a bad thing, Tamara thought.
Wanting to change the subject, she glanced at Jaclyn, who was toying with the plastic lid on her coffee cup.
“Are you okay?” Tamara asked her.
Jaclyn glanced up, meeting her concerned gaze. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You seem preoccupied.”
Jaclyn hesitated, then sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about me and Lucien. Now that we’re engaged, it seems as if Dr. Dudley’s got it in for us more than ever.”
Tamara nodded sympathetically. Although Jaclyn and Lucien De Winter were undeniably meant for each other, their relationship remained under intense scrutiny. But now, in light of some news Tamara had received earlier, Dr. Dudley’s fixation on the couple seemed downright hypocritical.
“I know something that should make you feel better about your engagement to Dr. De Winter,” Tamara said.
Jaclyn stared alertly at her. “What?”
Grinning mischievously, Tamara propped her elbows on the table and leaned toward her two companions. “I was talking to Jerome a few hours ago,” she confided in a low voice, “and he told me the most scandalous secret he’s been keeping for days.”
“What secret?” Jaclyn and Isabelle breathed.
“Well, it seems that Jerome caught Dr. Dudley and Nurse Tsang having sex in a supply closet.”
“Get out of here!” Jaclyn and Isabelle shrieked, gaping at her incredulously. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” Tamara winced, thinking of her chosen specialty. “No pun intended.”
The two women burst out laughing.
“The nerve of those two!” Jaclyn exclaimed indignantly. “They’re always harassin
g others about adhering to the nonfraternization policy, yet there they are, screwing in a supply closet!”
“I wish I knew which one it was,” Isabelle chortled. “I’d never step foot inside it again. Can you imagine Dudley and Tsang doing the nasty?”
The three women looked at each other, then let out a collective, “Eeeuuuwww!”
Chapter 10
Throughout the next day, Tamara remained in a heightened state of awareness, thanks to Victor. Every time he came near her, her pulse hammered erratically, and her skin felt singed. She could feel the heat of his eyes on her whenever she walked into a room. During the interns’ weekly group briefing with Dr. Balmer, Tamara didn’t hear a word that was spoken. The intensity of Victor’s gaze scrambled her circuits, rendering her unable to concentrate. But when she glanced over her shoulder, he was staring toward the front of the room, listening to their supervisor with a look of focused absorption.
At the end of the long, nerve-racking day, she emerged from the hospital to find Victor sitting astride a gleaming black and silver motorcycle. His eyes were shaded by mirrored sunglasses, and his long legs were covered in dark Levi’s that stretched taut across his strong, muscular thighs.
Her mouth ran dry. “Victor.”
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured. “Want a ride?”
She wanted a ride all right, but not necessarily the kind he was offering. She’d thought he couldn’t look any sexier than he did in his scrubs, but damn, was she wrong. He looked hot as hell on his Harley, straddling the powerful bike with an innate, dangerous-edged masculinity that sent her hormones into overdrive. She wanted to hop on to the seat with him, thrust her breasts into his face and wrap her legs around his back.
Slowly, he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the front pocket of his battered leather jacket. Her heart thudded as those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with hers.
“Let me give you a ride home.”
She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “That’s okay. I can walk.”
“Why walk,” he drawled, “when you can ride?”
Her bones turned to gelatin. “I only live fifteen minutes away.”
“I’ll get you there in five.”
She glanced pointedly at the black helmet dangling from the motorcycle’s handlebars. “You don’t have one of those for me.”
“Actually,” he said, reaching inside a compartment next to the gas tank and producing another helmet, “I do.” He held her gaze. “So let me take you home.”
Tamara wavered, biting her lower lip.
“Get on, cariño.” His voice dropped an octave, going indecently husky. “You know you want to.”
That did it.
Tamara forced herself to walk—not run—over to him. His eyes glinted with wicked satisfaction as he handed the helmet to her, then reached for his own. They stared at each other as they settled the protective gear over their heads.
Get on, Victor mouthed to her.
Pulse racing, Tamara swung her leg over the seat and wrapped her arms around his lean waist.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Ready.”
He turned the key in the ignition. The monster engine revved to life, vibrating the ground and rumbling through the air like the primal roar of a jungle beast.
Tamara’s arms tightened around Victor as he pulled away from the curb and cruised through the parking lot. They left the hospital grounds and hit Route One, which wasn’t congested at that late hour. Taking advantage of the open road, Victor went full throttle, roaring down the street with a speed that sent pure adrenaline rushing through Tamara’s veins. Although she wasn’t surprised that he drove like a demon road warrior, she felt completely safe with him. And as the wind whipped through the ends of her hair, she threw back her head and laughed, feeling more vibrantly alive than she had in years.
Victor took the long way home, weaving through historic Old Town Alexandria with its cobblestone streets, colonial houses, museums, shops and restaurants. They meandered down Prince Street, which ran parallel to the Potomac and offered scenic views of the glistening river that separated Northern Virginia from Washington, D.C. Tamara had lived in Alexandria all her life, but that night she took in the beautiful sights as if she were seeing them for the very first time. She didn’t want the ride to end. Snuggled against Victor’s body, savoring his heat and masculine strength, she could have stayed right there forever.
All too soon, he pulled up in front of a modern apartment building surrounded by shade trees.
He held the motorcycle upright as Tamara climbed off and removed her helmet. She smiled shyly at him, watching as he lifted his helmet shield to gaze at her. Raising her voice to be heard above the rumbling engine, she told him, “Thanks for the ride—even though it took longer than five minutes.”
He smiled lazily. “I said I could get you home in five minutes. I didn’t say I actually would.”
Tamara laughed. “Semantics.”
His eyes glinted with amusement.
As she passed him the spare helmet, their fingers brushed. Tingles of awareness shot through her veins, quickening her pulse. “Well, um, thanks again for bringing me home.”
“You’re welcome.”
They stared at each other, neither making a move to leave.
“Would you like to come up for some coffee?” Tamara blurted.
“Absolutely,” Victor said.
She directed him to park in one of her reserved spaces, then waited for him to rejoin her. As she watched him saunter toward the building—helmet tucked beneath his arm, dark hair falling rakishly over his forehead—her heart drummed against her ribcage. She knew she was playing with fire by inviting him up to her apartment. But she couldn’t have turned him away if her life depended on it. Right or wrong, she wanted to spend more time with him. She’d worry about the consequences later.
When he reached her, she sang teasingly, “B-b-b-bad. Bad to the bone.”
Victor grinned. “And don’t you forget it,” he retorted, playfully swatting her backside.
Laughing, Tamara led him through the small lobby to the bank of elevators. They boarded and claimed opposite corners of the empty car. As they silently gazed at each other, Tamara knew she wasn’t the only one remembering the previous elevator ride they’d shared.
They remained silent as they got off and walked to the door of Tamara’s apartment. She could feel the heat radiating from Victor’s body as he stood close behind her, making her so nervous that she fumbled with the lock three times before getting the door open.
She entered the apartment, flipped a light switch, then gestured Victor inside.
Brushing past her, he glanced around the small living room that featured a slightly worn camelback sofa, a glass coffee table and an oak bookcase crammed with medical tomes.
Setting down his helmet on the console table and peeling off his leather jacket, he remarked, “Nice place.”
“Thanks,” Tamara said, taking his jacket and hanging it up in the foyer closet. “I’m probably overpaying, but I appreciate living so close to the hospital. I have a car that I rarely drive, because I prefer to walk everywhere.”
“How healthy of you,” Victor teased, following her as she headed toward the kitchen to start the coffee.
“That, and it’s better for the environment.” She smiled, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Where do you live?”
“Tidewater Terrace.”
“Oh, yeah. I know that place. It was on my list of maybes, but in the end I decided it wasn’t close enough to the hospital. Do you like living there?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Victor drawled, leaning in the doorway with one shoulder propped on the wall. “It’s just a place to lay my head.”
Tamara nodded. “I feel the same way about this place. I’m hardly ever home. When I’m not at the hospital, I’m at my mom’s house in Maryland.”
“Maryland? I thought you grew up in Alexandri
a.”
“I did,” Tamara confirmed, rummaging through the cupboard. “After I left home for college, my mother decided she needed a change of scenery, so she moved to Fort Washington.”
“I love how close the two of you are,” Victor said smilingly. “One of the first times I ever met your mother, she was bringing you lunch just to make sure you didn’t starve yourself.”
Tamara grinned. “I know. She can’t help fussing over me.” She paused, brows furrowing. “Oh, shoot.”
“What?”
“I’m all out of coffee.”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t really in the mood for coffee, anyway.”
“It’s just as well. Mine probably wouldn’t have met your standards.”
“Why?” Victor drawled wryly. “Because I’m Colombian?”
“Exactly,” Tamara said with a laugh, walking to the refrigerator and opening the door. After surveying the meager contents, she sighed. “I need to go grocery shopping. All I’ve got is water and wine. So take your pick.”
When Victor didn’t respond, she glanced over to catch him with his head tipped to one side, his gaze latched on to her butt. She should have been offended—except she’d been doing the same thing to him almost from the day she met him.
Feeling naughty, she purred coyly, “Like what you see?”
The eyes that traveled back up to her face had a downright wicked gleam. “Sí,” Victor said silkily, “me gusta mucho.”
Tamara’s belly quivered. They stared at each other, the air between them crackling with pure sexual electricity.
“Want some wine?” she asked softly.
He held her gaze. “If that’s what you’re offering.”
“It is.” Slowly, deliberately, she closed the refrigerator door and faced him. “But that doesn’t have to be all.”
Their eyes held for one searing moment.
The next thing Tamara knew, Victor was right there, reaching her in two powerful strides and slamming his mouth down on hers. Desire exploded through her body as he parted her lips with his and kissed her with a scorching hunger that stole her breath. She threw her arms around his neck, her hands tangling in the warm, thick silk of his hair.
Romancing the M.D. Page 8